Talk to Me
by nicolevictoria00
Summary: Kurt Hummel doesn't talk. He hasn't in years. When he transfers to Dalton Academy his senior year, his roommate, Blaine Anderson, vows to change that. *triggers for rape and self-harm*
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Here's the first chapter! Sorry for any grammatical errors! Please review!**

***Trigger warning: Self harm and rape***

Kurt's POV:

I sigh, throwing my bags down on what I assumed would be my bed. I look around the room, inspecting the area I'll be living in for the next year. It's fairly large, as far as dorm rooms go and there is an en suite bathroom on the far wall, for which I am thankful. It's nice to have my own place to put all of my hair care products and to do my skin regimen in peace. The bed on the opposite side of me is made up in the sheets Dalton gave me when I walked in. There's a dresser next to the bed with pictures and other things on it. I tried getting a single room, but Dalton told me I was required to share. 'It's not like I'm going to interact with my roommate while I'm here,' I think to myself, sitting on the bed.  
The thing is, I don't talk. Haven't in years. The only person I feel comfortable with is my dad, and even sometimes I put my wall up around him. He's tried getting me to talk to other people, even put me in therapy once, but I haven't since… Since it happened.  
I feel tears prick my eyes, thinking about it, but before I break, I hear someone open the door. I look up and see a boy around my age. I take in his striking features, strong jaw, gelled down black hair, enticing auburn eyes. He looks at me warmly, and I try to smile.  
"You must be my new roommate," He says, his voice inviting. "I'm Blaine Anderson."  
I nod, feeling awkward. I guess no one told him I won't be speaking during my stay here. I pull my whiteboard out of one of my bags and write him, 'Hi, I'm Kurt.'  
He looks confused but doesn't say anything at first. "Hi, Kurt. I see you've found your side of the room." He laughs a little. Feeling even more awkward, I nod. I start pulling clothes out of my bag and filling them into the dresser next to my bed. "…So… you don't talk?" Blaine asks.  
I wince at the question, but nod. 'Sorry,' I write, shrugging. I finish putting all my clothes in the dresser and move to take my laptop and books out of my bag.  
"No need to apologize," Blaine says, back to the warm smile he had earlier. "So… new school, huh?"  
I nod, sitting on my bed. Blaine sighs, sitting on his bed too. "I'm not going to get much out of you, am I?" He asks. I don't reply, just pull out my ear buds and melt in the music flowing through my head.

Blaine's POV:  
I look at Kurt listening to music on his bed. I feel sorry for him. From the minute I walked into our room I could tell he had built walls up around himself and after talking to him for a few minutes I can already see the sadness in his eyes. Plus, he doesn't talk. I can tell that there's something going on that he's not telling me. Well, it's not like I expect him to; after all, he did just meet me.  
Looking at this boy on the bed across from me I get the feeling that I want to help him, in any way possible. I want to make him feel safe and comfortable, not just with me, but with everyone. I just need to get him to open up to me.  
Maybe I can help Kurt.

Kurt's POV:  
After a half hour of me listening to music, Blaine fell asleep reading. I look at him and take in his features again. Before it happened, he might have been the type of guy I would love. Thinking of this makes me upset, as I start thinking about before.  
*Flashback*  
_"Don't push me!" Karofksy yells. I start yelling back and then his hands are on my face and his lips are connected to mine. 'No!' My mind screams at me as I push him off of me. I look at him in fear, and get a lustful gaze in return. He kisses me again, snaking his tongue into my unwilling mouth. 'This can't be happening. This is a dream. Oh, please let this be a dream,' I think to myself. "Please, stop," I say, but Karofsky just gets angrier.  
"Why? We both know you love this, fag," Karofsky starts sucking on my neck, pulling apart the buttons on my shirt.  
"No! Stop, please! Please, Dave…" I plead, but he doesn't listen.  
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, babe," He pulls my pants and underwear off in one swift motion, as well as his. I start crying as he pushes me down to the ground and starts palming my soft dick.  
"Please, STOP!" I yell through my tears. He hits me across the face and turns me over. I stop fighting with him, as its proven futile. I just cry as he shoves a meaty finger up me, thrusting. I take in a sharp breath in pain. I cry louder as I feel his dick up against me.  
"No! Please!" I try to plead once again as I feel him slam into me. "Oh, God, no…" I cry as he starts roughly thrusting in and out of me.  
"Fuck, you feel so good." He moans. I feel liquid drip down my leg and realize its my blood. "You're such a slut for my cock." He moans, going faster.  
"Please, stop!" I yell.  
"You know you want this. Every fag does," He says, moaning one last time before coming inside of me. He gets up and puts his clothes back on, leaving me in a heap on the floor. "Hey fairy," He gets down close to me and whispers, "If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll kill you."_  
*End of flashback*  
I feel something warm and wet on my cheeks and realize I'm crying. 'No, Kurt, you need to be strong. Pull yourself together, stop crying.' I think to myself. I realize how I can become strong and go into the bathroom, pulling my razor out of my bag of toiletries. I break it apart and take one of the blades out.  
Since my dad helped me pack all of my stuff, I didn't have time to get my other blades before we left, so I'm stuck with this. I pull my sleeve up and see scars littering my arm. I press the blade against my wrist and pull sharply, inhaling the relief as I do. I cut five more times, reveling in the blood and pain before cleaning up myself and bandaging my cuts. 'There. Now I can be strong.'  
I've been cutting myself for almost four years, ever since Karofsky did it when I was a freshman. At first I didn't do it that often but as I realized it made me strong, perfect even, I started doing it more often. The blade is my only friend.  
I make my way out of the bathroom and see that Blaine is not in his bed. I look at the clock and see that it's almost 6:30 and realize that he probably went to get dinner. Not wanting any more human interaction today, I crawl into bed and hope to get a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here's the second chapter! I hope you like it! I tried making it a little longer, but I don't know if I was successful. I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes as I had to type it all up on my phone because I didn't have access to a computer! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed! :)**

***Triggers for: self-harm***

Kurt's POV:

For once, I wake up in the morning, nightmare free. Blaine is already up, and I smile at the sight of his unruly hair. He glances over and sees me awake and smiles. "Good morning, Kurt. Ready for your first day of classes?"

Oh, God, classes! I forgot. I scramble up from bed and into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. God, I'm hideous.

Karofsky made sure I knew that everyday. I'm barely even a guy, and I have the looks to prove that. My nose is too thin, my lips are too feminine, my eyes are too far apart, my hair is girly, my hips are too wide, my stomach too thin but my thighs are too fat. I can't win.

I look at myself in the mirror again and realize my sunken in eyes, how tired I look, how sad I look. I pull some foundation out of my bag and wipe some under my eyes, making sure it looks like I'm a healthy, happy, normal teenage boy. Next, I look at my hair and sigh. I hadn't bothered putting product in it yesterday, and now I'm regretting it. My hair looks limp and lifeless. I check the time and see I only have a half hour left before classes. I decide to go understated, but still done enough that I can be seen in public.

This is the one part of myself that Karofsky didn't take when he... Did it. Although I've lost my knack for talking and singing and even Broadway, my love for fashion stays. I'm grateful for that, as it's one of the only things that makes me feel like myself anymore.

I finish up with my hair, only having slightly less of a coif than I usually do. I walk out of the bathroom with ten minutes to spare. I take my Dalton uniform and quickly put it on in the bathroom, carefully so I don't mess up my hair. I walk out of the bathroom, feeling kind of prepared for the day ahead of me.

I look at Blaine and he smiles. "You're a senior, right?" He asks me, and I nod. "Me too. Let me see your schedule; maybe we have some classes together."

I hand him my schedule and he compares our classes. "Well, we only have two periods together, English and Music Composition. I didn't know you were into music."

I nod. At McKinley, I wouldn't be caught dead in a music class. If I was, I might as well be dead, but my dad had pushed for me to take a music class here at Dalton, and I didn't want to be even worse of a son so I took it. Music composition is the only music class offered that I won't have to sing for, so I took that.

"Well, English is our first period, so I can show you the way. I'll get one of my friends in your second period to show you they way there, okay?"

I'm not very fond of the idea of meeting new people that could easily judge me and hate me, but I don't want to argue with Blaine on my second day as his roommate.

I nod, grabbing my bag and my whiteboard. Blaine leads me to the English section and walks into our English classroom. Mrs. Cameron is a grating woman in her fifties. She seems kind of like the kind of teacher that could either be incredibly sweet or could bite your head off with one wrong answer. I walk in and stop in the doorway as Blaine takes a seat.

A wave of anxiety hits me as I see a room of boys I've never seen in my life. I've never had a problem with not talking to people, but right now I'm getting nervous thinking about it. I'm never going to talk to these people, but all of them are probably going to hate me. I'm a freak and all of them know that.

Mrs. Cameron looks at me expectantly and I pull out my whiteboard, about to write something, when Blaine stands up. "Mrs, Cameron, this is Kurt. He, uh, he doesn't talk."

"Ah, yes, Kurt." Her voice is like sandpaper, grating on me until I'm nothing but a speck of dust. "I've been notified of his... Circumstances. Class," She addresses the class like a queen, gaining their attention easily. That would never happen at McKinley. A teacher would have to raise her voice far above what any teacher at Dalton would find acceptable at McKinley. "This is Kurt. He's a new student, transferred from..." She looks over to me. I quickly write on my board, 'McKinley.' "McKinley," She finishes. I get a few weird looks from students, but none that make me feel more uncomfortable than I already am. "You make take your seat next to Blaine, Mr. Hummel." She says with a quick look to her class roster.

I quickly sit down, Blaine on my right and an unknown on my left. "Hi, I'm Trent," The boy—Trent—says, holding out a hand for me to shake. 'I'm Kurt,' I write, even though I don't have to.

"I'm in the Warblers with Blaine," Trent says, motioning to Blaine. I give both of them a questioning glance.

"Oh, the Warblers are our singing group. We go to competitions and stuff. We might even make it to Nationals this year." Blaine explains, and my face falls.

I remember when I was in the glee club at McKinley, back when I was just a freshman. I didn't get a lot of solos, but at least I knew I was appreciated there. I haven't felt appreciated in a long time. I feel tears prick the edges of my eyes by I quickly blink them away, checking to see if anyone noticed. Blaine was too busy talking to Trent. He takes my schedule and gives it to Trent to compare with his. "We have all of our classes together, except music comp," He says, smiling at me. I nod, and give him a small smile back. He starts explaining what the different teachers at Dalton are like, but Mrs. Cameron snaps at him and we go to listen to the lesson.

•

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, but the looks and stares have grated on me. Everywhere I went, people gave me weird looks, as I'm not only the new kid, I'm the freaky new kid that doesn't talk. Right now, all I want to do is lock myself in the bathroom and cut. But Blaine is sitting on the bed across from me and I don't want to bring any attention to myself.

After a few minutes of wallowing in my self pity I decide to screw it and walk into the bathroom. On my way there I glance and Blaine and see he looked up but didn't make anything of it.

I lock the door and pull out my blade hastily. I pull off my blazer and inspect my arms. My left arm is littered with the cuts from yesterday, so I take the blade in my left hand and cut my right wrist. Ten minutes later, my arm is littered with fresh cuts and relief is flowing through my body. All of my imperfections leave my body in the blood flowing out of my wrist.

I rinse out the cuts, noticing that some of them are deeper than usual but not deep enough for me to be worried about. I find an ace bandage in the stocked medicine cabinet and I hope that Blaine won't notice. He seems to be prepared for anything, the cabinet stocked with extra toiletries to an abundance of medical supplies. I take out a few band aids and cover the more shallow cuts with them and start to wrap the ace bandage around my arm when I hear a knock at the door. I freeze when I hear the warm voice of Blaine coming through from the other side. "Kurt? Are you okay?" I don't know what he expects as an answer but then he says "Knock once for yes, and two for no."

I quickly knock on the door once to let him know I'm fine. I hear his footsteps retreat from the door and sigh in relief. That was too close.

I finish wrapping up my arm quickly and leave the bathroom. I smile at Blaine as I walk past him and lay on my bed, not really thinking about anything.

"Hey, Kurt?" I look up at Blaine. "It's almost 6:30, so do you want to head down to dinner with me?"

I look up at him and nod, grabbing my whiteboard. He leads me to the dining hall and we go through the line, getting a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. I don't take much as spaghetti is messy and I lost my appetite throughout the day. He leads me to a table full of boys scarfing down their meals. Blaine pulls out two chairs for us to sit and introduces me to Wes, David, Nick, Jeff, Thad, and Sebastian. I wave as Blaine introduces me. "You're that kid that doesn't talk," One of them—Nick I think—says. I think he was just curious so I don't take offense. I nod as another one says "Why?" I think his name is Sebastian. I tense up and look between him and the other Warblers.

I take in a few sharp breaths and Blaine says "Sebastian, that was a little personal, don't you think?"

"No. If the freak doesn't wanna talk, he should at least give everyone an explanation, instead of just thinking we're all gonna accept it without thinking he's crazy." The table grows silent and they all look at me as Sebastian keeps talking. "He's obviously psycho, guys. I don't know why you're sympathizing with him." I feel tears start to form in my eyes, and Sebastian says, "Oh, the psychos gonna cry now. Boo hoo, just go back to your mommy and daddy. See how they enjoy your silence."

With that I stand and run out of the room; I don't know how I made it back to my dorm but I did. I slam the door shut and fall on my bed, wrapping the covers around me in the fetal position. I let my tears flow freely, sobbing loudly. The only time I make a sound, besides when I talk to my dad, I'm crying like this.

Sebastian was right. I'm a freak, crazy, psycho. I don't even have a mom to run to.

That was probably what hurt the most. My mother left me. It's not like it was her fault, but I don't have a mother. She died, leaving me and my dad to fend for ourselves. God screwed all of us over.

I cry harder thinking about my mother and don't realize that Blaine walked into the room until I hear him say "Oh, Kurt..." He walks over to me and sits on my bed, looking down at me in concern. For once, I don't feel like I have to put my barrier back up; for once, I feel like I can trust this person. As this wave of emotion comes over me, I feel the need to embrace someone. So that's what I do. I throw my arms around Blaine and cry into him, and after he gets over his initial shock, he hugs me back.

•

Blaine's POV:

"Jesus, Sebastian, what the hell was that for?!" I yell, standing up at my seat. I'm furious at the way Sebastian acted, talking to and about Kurt like that.

Kurt's an angel and all he needs is to be loved. He needs someone to care for him and take all of his demons away, and Sebastian screaming at him like that was not helping. God, he looked so helpless I just wanted to hide him away from the world.

"He's a freak, Blaine! What kind of person doesn't talk?!" Sebastian retorts, scowling at me.

"Did you ever stop to realize that there could be something that happened to him that made him this way?! People don't just stop talking for random reasons, and you were way out of line!" I yell, getting angrier by the minute. "Don't you ever talk to or about him like that again, Sebastian or you will pay for it."

I storm out of the cafeteria and straight to my dorm room, assuming that's where Kurt will be. I open up the door and see Kurt lying in the fetal position on his bed, heart wrenching sobs coming from his lips. "Oh, Kurt." I say, not wanting to startle him, but sitting on his bed. There's nothing I want more than to wrap my arms around him and comfort him, but I don't want to scare him away.

He looks up at me with tears streaming down his face. I can see he's thinking about something and then all of a sudden he throws himself on me, wrapping his arms around my waist, crying into my shoulder. I'm surprised at first but then I embrace him as well.

"Shh, Kurt, it's okay. I'm here. Shh," I whisper to him comforting words, hoping to make a difference to him.

This is the defining moment. I need to get this boy to open up to me. I need to help him. I want to help him. I don't want his life to be this living hell anymore.

I'm going to help him, whatever it takes, I will help Kurt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Well I thought that I wouldn't be able to write today because of school and I'm performing at an elementary school later! :) But I've realized that writing is more important than math (I'm getting all a's anyway so I should be fine) so I'm uploading this on my phone in my math class. Well I hope you like this chapter! I don't think it's as good as the first two, kind of a filler, kind of not, but I hope you enjoy it! And review if you like!**

***triggers for: self-harm, violence***

Blaine's POV:

Holding Kurt in my arms, I can still feel he's tense. His muscles will probably ache when he gets out of this position, but at this time I don't think he cares. I still hear some sniffles coming from him every few minutes. I'm at a loss for words at the moment, but I know we'll need to talk about this later. Instead of opening my mouth and ruining everything with words, I decide to sing. I go for my queen, Katy Perry, and decide to just go for it.

I sing the first few lines of "Teenage Dream" and I'm already starting to feel Kurt loosen up. I still hear the sniffles as I go through the song, and he still clings to me like I'm his lifeline, but he starts to relax a little with the flow of the song. By the end of the song, his sniffles are almost nonexistent and he moves from my lap and sits with his knees up to his chest on his bed. He grabs his white board and writes something.

'Katy Perry, Blaine? Really?' I see a small smirk on his face and laugh.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," I reply. This is the first time I actually look at him, see his character shining through all of his overlaying sadness. I realize this Kurt is beautiful. Every Kurt is beautiful, but the sarcastic, funny Kurt is lightweight and overbearing (in a good way) that just makes me smile. I don't think anything—or anyone—could replace this Kurt, right now, even though he was sitting in my lap crying a few minutes ago.

'You have a beautiful voice,' He writes on his whiteboard. I can feel myself blush, though not as much as him. I guess nobody has ever sung to him before.

"I bet you do too," I say, not thinking. He tenses a little bit and I'm beginning to think I scared him away. "Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I am so sorry..." I trail off, apologizing at least ten more times before he reaches over and puts a hand on my shoulder, shutting me up. "Sorry," I say again, this time for the rambling. A quiet laugh comes from his mouth and I love it. I want to make him laugh a million more times. "I love your laugh. Sorry if I just made this awkward," He rewards me with another laugh and I smile.

'You're fine,' He writes, smiling.

"Hey, Kurt?" I say, cautiously. I don't want to scare him away, but I need to ask him. "Why don't you talk? You don't have to answer, I just want you to know that if you ever need someone, you can come to me. I will never laugh at you or make fun of you or anything. I will just be supportive and caring towards you. Always." I'm really hoping I haven't scared the boy away, but I don't think I have, as I see him writing something on his whiteboard.

'It's a long story, Blaine. One that I'm not very fond of telling,' He looks at me, with a frightened expression and I smile at him warmly.

"That's okay. You don't have to tell me. But if you ever want to tell someone, or feel like shit like you did just now, you can come to me," I say, genuinely, smiling at him.

'Okay... Thanks, Blaine,' He writes and I smile more.

"So you're okay, right?" I ask him, still concerned.

'Yeah, I'm fine Blaine.' I don't know if I believe him, there's something there that I just can't shake. Maybe it's the way he looks so innocent and beautiful. I just want to protect him and love him. Wait, love him? Like a friend right? There's no way I can develop feelings for this boy. I mean, not that he isn't a great person, I just can't let my feelings get in the way of helping him. I can't let my feelings ruin this. I can't scare him away.

"Pinky promise?" I know this is really childish, but it's how my brother used to know how I was when I was younger. I hold out my pinky, which he wraps his pinky around. I smile at the motion and get up off his bed.

"Wow, Kurt, it's already–" I was going to tell him how late it was, but with a quick glance over, I see he's already asleep.

•

I wake up at 3:00 am to the sound of quiet whimpers and the rustling of sheets. It takes me a few seconds to realize it's Kurt. He must be having a nightmare. I walk over to him and see a sheen of sweat upon his face, a look of fright and anger in his features. "Kurt, wake up." I nudge him gently, trying not to scare him too much. "Kurt, you're having a nightmare. Come on Kurt, wake up." It takes me five more minutes before Kurt finally wakes up with a start. He's breathing heavily and has panic in his eyes. I see him look around the room and I don't think he knows where he is. He's somewhere else, where he was in his nightmare. "Kurt, it's okay. You're in our dorm room. You had a nightmare." I say, seeing him slowly come back. "You're okay. You're safe. It's okay, Kurt." I reach out to him but he cowers away and shakes his head. I realize tears are flowing down his face and I give him a sympathetic look. I grab my tissues from my nightstand and hold them out for him. He cautiously takes one and wipes his face. He grabs his whiteboard and writes something.

'I'm sorry.' I break at the sight of his written apology and sigh.

"You don't need to apologize, Kurt. It's not your fault." I look at him and know that he doesn't believe me, but I don't stress it too much. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask him, hoping he says yes. I know he doesn't really know me and probably doesn't trust me too much yet, but I still want him to know he can come to me.

He nods his head and I smile at him, comfortingly. He writes on his whiteboard and shows it to me. It only says one word but it explains so much. The word written on the board is 'Bullies,' a word I'm all too familiar with. I move onto his bed, but don't touch him, as he moved away from my touch earlier and I don't want to startle him.

I sigh and say, "I understand. I was bullied at my old school..." I start telling him my story, hoping maybe by doing this I can gain some of his trust.

•

Kurt's POV:

Blaine starts telling me about how he was bullied and I can't believe it. How could someone as perfect as Blaine ever be bullied? I've barely talked—written, I suppose—to him and he's been nothing but sweet and kind to me. He's offered me a hand when no one else did, he hasn't viewed me at all like the freak I am. He tells me about how his old school had a Sadie Hawkins dance and as one of the only gay kids at his school he took one of his friends. He explains how he had a great time until after the dance, while he was waiting for his father, four jocks came up to him and his friend and beat them up badly. He says he ended up in the hospital. Tears start forming in his eyes and I put my hand on his knee in empathy. He says they ran his friend out of the state, how he hasn't seen him since the incident. Blaine's parents transferred him to Dalton and tried to get the school in trouble, but their efforts were futile as 'Well, kids will be kids.'

I write on my board, 'I'm so sorry, Blaine.' He smiles at me and wipes a tear from his cheek.

"It's okay. It's made me stronger. Just like your bullies did to you. You're strong, Kurt. One of the strongest people I know." I smile weakly at him, but all his words do are remind me how untrue all of his words are. I'm not strong. I'm weak. I stand up and write that I'm going to go to the bathroom. I thank Blaine and he moves back into his bed.

I walk into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a messy flop on my head and my eyes are red and puffy from crying. I take off my undershirt revealing my stomach. I take my blade and drag it across my stomach, feeling instant relief from the nightmare.

It wasn't just about the bullies at McKinley. Luckily for me, Karofsky moved out of state before he could do any further damage to me, although it's hard to believe he hadn't already done the worst. That doesn't mean he still isn't in my nightmares. All of his friends became worse to me after he left, beating me up and then throwing me in a dumpster nearly everyday after school. But this nightmare was different. I drag the blade across my stomach a few more times as I think about it.

*Flashback*

_"Hey, fag!" I hear Karofsky's voice behind me and tense up. I turn around and I feel intense cold consume me. I shiver as I wipe the slushie out of my eyes. I expected them to be gone but as I blink my eyes open they are all still there. "Please leave." I say but they all laugh. _

_"We're not done with you yet, fairy." Azimio speaks up and throws me against the locker. I feel a knee to my stomach and fall down. They all laugh and start kicking me. I hear Karofsky say something to them, but can't discern what it is. Then I feel him on top of me, discreetly touching my most private places and then punching me in the jaw, eyes, cheek, wherever he can. I groan out in pain and hear laughter in response. Karofsky gets up and I try to scramble away but someone grabs me and throws me to the ground, kicking me more. After a blow to my head, I feel myself flowing in and out of consciousness until everything goes black._

_When I wake up, I'm in an unknown room in someone's house. I have no clothes on and it's freezing. I look around and realize I'm in a teenage boys room. My theory is correct when I see Karofsky walk into the room. "Oh look, the fag's awake." He comes over to me and throws me on the bed. _

_I hear his zipper come down and feel his dick against me. "No, please, no!" I scream and plead, but he doesn't listen. I can't hear the sound of him having his way with me over my screams._

*end of flashback*

I cut enough to make me forget about the terrible dreams, the memories coming out with the blood, just like my imperfections. I rinse my wounds and wrap my stomach in the ace bandage, even though it's stained with my blood. I should probably wash it, but there's a greater need right now. I put my blade back in it's hiding spot and crawl back into bed, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I graze my hand over my stomach, feeling the pain again. When I fall asleep, I don't have a nightmare this time. I dream of Blaine and how much he's helped me. I dream of having a life with him, having kids, and talking to him, actually talking to him. I dream of having a good life that I'm comfortable in with Blaine Anderson, but when I wake up the next morning, I don't remember a thing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update yesterday! I had a big test that took up my first two periods in the morning and then I went to perform for an elementary school! Anyway, here's the fourth chapter. More plot comes up in this (kinda) so I'm excited to hear what you guys think of it, so please review!**

**Triggers for: self-harm, rape (kinda)**

Kurt's POV:

The rest of the week passes by uneventfully. I've gotten to know Blaine much better and he's slowly becoming my best friend at Dalton. Even though he doesn't know anything, except that I was bullied I feel good knowing that if I need to talk about something I can go to him. Life still sucks but at least I have one friend other than my blade as company.

I'm in my bathroom right now, cuts littering my arms, the blood starting to stop spilling from my veins. Relief is spilling out from my pores and I grab the ace bandage from the countertop. I put my blade back and step into a shower, letting the warm water consume me.

After my shower, I get into a pair of silk pajama pants and a sweater, for once not caring about how I look. I grab the book I have to read for school—Animal Farm, ugh—and get comfortable in bed, hoping to get through at least ten pages.

Twenty pages later, I'm surprisingly not dying of boredom and Blaine walks into the room. I look up at him and wave. He smiles and dashes into the bathroom. A few minutes later Blaine comes out with a t-shirt and jeans on. He looks over at me and smiles. I reach over to grab my whiteboard and quickly realize that's a big mistake.

My sleeve rides up, only a little bit, but enough for me to hope Blaine didn't see my cuts. By the way he gasps when I freeze, I know he saw. "Kurt..." I hear him sigh and walk over to my bed. "What are those on your arm?" He sits down and I pull my sleeve down further.

I grab my whiteboard and scribble out 'Nothing.'

"I know it's not nothing, Kurt..." He looks so sad that I just can't lie to him.

'I'm sorry,' I write out, letting a tear slip down my cheek. Blaine moves in and grips me tight, hugging me as if I'm the only person left on the planet.

"Can I see?" He asks, holding out his hand. I nod and hold out my arm, trying to stay strong for this. He rolls up my sleeve and gasps. "Oh, Kurt."

My mouth is completely dry and I feel like vomiting. I don't want Blaine's pity, I just want him to understand. But he doesn't understand, nobody does. God I feel like cutting now more than ever. I'm pathetic, a failure. I'm so stupid. How could I ever believe I'd be able to keep this a secret forever? Blaine was bound to find out sometime. Now I just feel like shit. I can't do anything right.

Blaine looks at my arm, running a finger over my cuts. "Why?" He looks up at me and I see tears forming in his eyes. I shrug and turn away. "Hey, Kurt, don't shut me out. Don't put your walls up. Please. Was it the bullies? Did they make you want to do this?" I shrug again, turning to look at him. "You don't deserve this, Kurt." I look up at him and shake my head. "Kurt. Look at me. You are worth so much more than you think you are. You are smart and kind and so, so strong. You're perfect, Kurt."

Everything he's saying are lies. I'm not smart or kind or strong and I'm definitely not perfect. I'm so imperfect I can't stand it.

Blaine doesn't deserve this. He deserves my voice. He deserves an explanation through mouth, not writing. I sigh and prepare myself for what I'm about to do.

"I-I'm sorry, Blaine..." I say, nervously, looking at him as I speak. He looks up from my cuts as he hears my voice and smiles.

"Kurt... Your voice is beautiful." He's momentarily distracted and for that I'm grateful. "You should talk more," He looks up at me, smiling, with a hint of– what is that? Pride? He can't be proud of me; I haven't given him anything to be proud of. I'm a pathetic freak who doesn't talk and cuts himself. I close my mouth and turn away from Blaine, letting a few tears fall from my eyes.

I just spoke. I shouldn't have. Not even in the confines of my room, with nobody but my roommate here. I can't do it again. If I do it, I'll end up telling Blaine more. More about my bullies, my life, Karofsky. What he did. I can't. Karofsky's long gone but his threat's still here with me. I can't tell anyone. He'll find out and kill me. I know he still has connections in Lima, which isn't very far from here. No. I'm not going to talk again. I can't. I can't let Blaine in and then get him and myself in danger. I'm protecting him. He'd like that, right? He has to. He doesn't want to be put in danger, especially not because of some pathetic excuse of a person like me.

"Kurt, don't build your walls up again. Come on, please? Can you just tell me why?" Blaine's not only pleading with his mouth but with eyes.

How am I supposed to say no to that? He's gotten out the puppy dog eyes. I don't know how I'm going to accomplish anything again with him here. It would be okay for me to talk just to him, right? I talked to my dad and nothing happened. He doesn't know anything. He only knew about some bullying; he sent me here to make me talk. Even though he didn't say that I know it's true. It should be okay if I talk to Blaine. But only to Blaine, and I can't tell him anything. I'll just tell him the extent of the bullying, not even mention what Karofsky's done.

"Th-they threw me into d-dumpsters, Blaine," I don't know if I'm stuttering because I'm terrified of talking or because I'm about to cry. Maybe both. "I got i-ice cold slushies thrown o-on my head. They b-beat me up almost e-everyday. They said th-that I'm pathetic and s-stupid and worthless a-and girly and annoying and unimportant and u-useless and that I c-can't do anything r-right. It's all t-true Blaine. I am a-all those things. All because I-I'm a stupid f-fag." Tears are flowing freely from my eyes and I throw myself at Blaine, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"No, Kurt. You're not any of those things. I promise." He runs a hand up and down my back, trying to calm me down, but I'm too far gone. I get up from his lap and scramble into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I grab my blade and push it into my skin, once, twice, three times before Blaine is pushing the door open and trying to get the blade out of my hands. "No!" I yell, trying—and failing—to keep the blade from him. "Give it to me!" I hold my hand out, even though I know he won't give me the blade. I start crying and fall to the ground in the fetal position.

"Kurt, you can't keep doing this to yourself," He crouches down next to me throwing my blade in the trash. "It's not healthy."

I look up at him and shake my head. "But it works, Blaine. I wouldn't be here without it," I look up at him and see my words sink in. At first he looks sad but then he looks angry.

"But this is killing you Kurt! Look what you're doing to your body! One day you're going to cut too deep and what's going to happen then? Do you know what I would do if you died? I'd blame myself, Kurt. To know that you're doing this to yourself and have you die, it would be my fault. I can't just sit here and watch you kill yourself, Kurt. I... I really care about you and I can't watch you do this to yourself." Blaine is crying, looking down at me with so much sincerity that i might just believe him. But I can't. I bet Blaine just doesn't want me hurting myself because he doesn't want to have to deal with a psycho as a roommate.

"I-I don't know if I can, Blaine." I say, nervously. I don't want to stop cutting. "I'll try," I lie. It shouldn't be hard for me to find new blades. I just have to be better at hiding myself.

Blaine sighs and stands up. "Thank you, Kurt. You're so strong, please stay strong. If not for yourself, for me."

I stand up and examine my three cuts before washing off my arm and deciding not to bandage them. Blaine sighs and looks at me sadly, and I feel a little guilty, for cutting and for lying, but I brush it off. I give Blaine a hug and move into our room. "I really am sorry, Blaine." I've gotten used to talking to him. As long as he doesn't figure anything else out, I think I'll be fine.

"Are you going to be talking now?" I don't think he's asking to be judgmental, just curious.

"Only... Only to you." I'm cautious. I don't know how Blaine will take this and I hope he's not expecting me to talk in public.

"That's fine. I'm glad you opened up to me," He smiles at me and I feel slightly awkward.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, for everything, for cutting, for not talking to you, for being such a freak." I'm terrified Blaine is going to leave me, now that he knows how crazy I really am. But he can't leave me, I don't know how I'll be able to do this without him.

"Hey, Kurt, it's okay. You're not a freak, I promise. Why don't we both just sleep on it, okay? Maybe we can talk more tomorrow."

"Okay, yeah," I climb into bed and quickly doze off, exhausted at the day I had.

•

"Hey, Hummel!" Karofsky shouts from behind me. How did he find me here? He's supposed to be in a different state, how could he have found me at Dalton? I break into a run as I hear his footsteps getting closer. I run into a park, eery looking in the night. I hide behind the slide but then I feel a pair if meaty hands around my waist. "You couldn't hide from me forever." I let out a scream but he puts his hand over my mouth. I try to scramble away but he's too strong. He drags me to a car and throws me in the back seat. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He starts ripping off my clothes.

"Help! Please! Somebody! Blaine!" I try getting away again but Karofsky slams my shoulder into the seat.

"Blaine?! You've been whoring around," He looks at me furiously and pulls my pants down.

"Please stop, let me go... Please."

•

Blaine's POV:

I'm jostled awake by whimpers and screams. I look up at Kurt and sigh. He's had three nightmares this week, but seeing as he's speaking through this one I'm guessing it's the worst. I feel so bad for the boy. He's gone through so much, with the bullies and everything, that they pushed him to stop talking and even start cutting himself.

That was a big surprise to me. I don't see how anyone as strong as Kurt would ever want to hurt himself. I wish I could understand for him, but I don't. All I can do is be a shoulder for him to cry on. He doesn't even believe in how strong he is. Lately, I've been thinking about him more and more often. I've developed a crush for my roommate and I don't think it will leave me anytime soon. Kurt's perfect, in every way. He's so kind and amazing and strong. And his voice is beautiful. It's really a shame that his bullies drove him to stop talking, and if I knew who they are they'd be sorry.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by Kurt, who suddenly yells, "Help! Please! Somebody! Blaine!" His nightmare must be really bad for him to be yelling out in his sleep, especially for me. I quickly get out of bed and rush to his side, trying to wake him without scaring him. "Please, stop, let me go... Please," He whimpers and I'm suddenly curious about what's happening in his nightmare. It doesn't sound like he's just getting beaten up. It sounds... Worse. After a few minutes, I finally wake him up. He looks at me, terrified and quickly moves as far as possible.

"Please don't hurt me..." He whispers. My heart breaks as I look at how frightened and small he looks. He doesn't deserve any of this, the exact opposite actually.

"Kurt, I won't hurt you. You're okay, you're safe." I see him slowly become less scared and he comes back to me, still curling in on himself slightly. "You're safe, Kurt. No one's going to hurt you."

"I-I'm sorry, Blaine," He's digging his nails into his skin, hard enough that soon might draw blood. I take his hand and grasp it, stopping him from hurting himself and giving him comfort through my touch.

"Stop, you're strong. You can get through this without hurting yourself," Kurt looks up at me, questioningly.

"You really think I can?" He asks me, withdrawing his hands.

"I don't think you can, I know you can," I smile and he tries smiling back. "Are you okay to go back to bed? Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head and draws the covers up over himself, turning away from me. I walk over to my bed and say "Goodnight, Kurt," but either he didn't hear me or he's already asleep.

I try getting to sleep once more, but a recurring thought keeps coming to my mind. What was Kurt's nightmare about? Who did he need to get away from? Why did it seem like so much worse than what he told me of his bullying? I try coming up with realistic answers for all of these questions, but the only thing I can believe is that there's something Kurt isn't telling me. And that worries me. A lot.


End file.
